


Falling Slowly

by neverending_shenanigans



Category: Captain America (Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/F, Female Steve Rogers, Genderbending, Pre-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Rule 63, Sailor Moon - Freeform, Steve Rogers and the 21st Century
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-10
Updated: 2014-10-10
Packaged: 2018-02-20 16:35:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2435540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverending_shenanigans/pseuds/neverending_shenanigans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Darcy follows Jane to new York, she only did it because Jane would be a mess without her. She can't complain, though, when she meets Stella. Stella is nice, maybe a bit reserved and one hell of a woman. And, oh, Stella might just have not mentioned the fact that she is actually much older than she looks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling Slowly

**Author's Note:**

  * For [usedkarma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/usedkarma/gifts).



**Falling Slowly**

  

*

 

_I don't know you_  
But I want you  
All the more for that

 

 

*

  

6:01 am is an ungodly time. And that is a universal law. She’s pretty sure that if she’d ask Thor, he’d tell her that even in Asgard people are not forced to rise this early. Especially not for six measly college credits. Especially not if one was still dead tired from a late flight from New Mexico to New York.

Which prompted the question: why _did_ she stand alone in the middle of Jane’s new lab right now, unpacking the first of many of Jane’s boxes? Why wasn’t the boss-lady around, taking care of all the precious things that were so invaluable to her that she had had to take them with her now? To a lab, one has to mention at that, that was filled with the best and most accurate science-machines that were probably available.

Just glancing around here made Darcy feel like she was in some weird sci-fi movie. Everything was shiny, and silver, and the embodiment of high-tech. Kudos to being funded by the government. Technically, none of the things Jane had made her pack last week and that she had to unpack now would be used here. The thought alone made Darcy groan again, glancing at the clock. 6:02 am.

In New Mexico it would be 4:02 am right now. Jane would be asleep for three more hours, so Darcy had three hours of unpacking to get through until she could call her boss-lady and complain sufficiently about working at ungodly times.

But this was the curse of being awesome. Jane had decided to stay behind in New Mexiko to pack the last few things, but she had sent Darcy ahead with the first boxes just yesterday. Apparently, because she didn’t trust any of the minions Tony Stark had hired to work for Jane with her stuff.

When she had said that Darcy was the only one she trusted with her things, it had had Darcy gloating. Now? Not so much. Now she saw the great responsibility that came with her awesomeness, and she’d rather Jane would have just let the minions do their thing and had granted her sleep.

With an annoyed huffed Darcy put the last stag of folders from the box, carefully placing them on top of the other stag. “Excuse me, Ma’am…?” The soft voice came out of nowhere. Darcy turned around swiftly and maybe a bit too quickly. With a bit of an unfortunate movement, she managed to slightly brush by one of the two stags. Very softly, really.

Darcy did only so much as glance at the woman in the doorway before she noted the movement of the folders out of the corners of her eye and turned in horror. It had been a very light brush, but, apparently, because she was such a lucky person, it was enough for the stag to tilt to its left and folder’s started slipping off and spilling over the edge of the table. Way too quickly for Darcy to catch any.

Darcy started cursing immediately, staring at the mess she made in horror. “Fucking fuckshit. Hell no. God- _damn_. _Why._ What did I ever _do_ to you.” She’d have to pick all of that up again. And sort it. And that would take forever. Just great.

“I’m ah… I’m sorry?” Darcy looked over her shoulder, having almost forgotten already what had made her turn around and caused the chain reaction.

Damn, that was a tall woman. Lean and muscly, incredibly upright posture and a beautiful face with high cheekbones and a determined chin. She seemed a mixture between startled, confused and embarrassed.

Darcy raised a hand and waved it off. “I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to those folders. I swear, this was personal. They hate me.”

The woman shifted her weight slightly, her whole posture screamed awkward. As if she wasn’t sure what she was even doing here. “Ah.” Well, Darcy had no clue either. She turned around fully now, away from the mess on the floor.

“So. Can I help you? And – wait, did you call me _ma’am_?” Darcy quickly gave the woman a onceover. She was dressed in a flannel shirt and jeans, with her hair pulled up in a casual, short ponytail.

Maybe she was one of the minions Stark had hired for Jane. But with a figure like that, she probably was working for S.H.I.E.L.D. Not that science geeks didn’t have muscle on them. She herself took pride in the her arm-muscles, build up from carrying around heavy books all the time.

The woman’s eyes darted through the room, as if she really wasn’t sure if she was right here. Maybe she was actually a construction worker and had just gotten lost in Stark’s tower. Wouldn’t be too surprising. Darcy was afraid of getting lost and ending up in some secret rooms herself. “Yes, I think I did. Sorry?”

Darcy grinned, shaking her head a bit. “No, that’s fine, I just feel very old now. Oh well. So. Why are you here again – at this ungodly hour, not to mention? Just popping by, or…?” The woman smiled a bit. It was a fleeting smile, though.

“I was looking for Thor and…” she glanced down at a note in her hand, that Darcy saw only now. “… Dr. Jane Foster? Is this her lab?” Darcy grinned.

“Well, yeah. But there was a switch-up. Jane’s still in New Mexico and send me instead.” Darcy walked over to the woman, offering her hand. “I’m Darcy Lewis, the intern. Assistant. Slave. Whatever.”

The woman took her hand, and Darcy almost expected her to kind of crush it. But the pressure of those warm fingers was gentle. “Pleasure to meet you. I’m… Stella. Rogers. I was asked to welcome Dr. Foster and Thor to the tower. But I guess that counts for you, too. So. Welcome?”

Darcy grinned, as she crossed her arms over her chest. “You don’t sound too sure that I’m welcome. Are you working for Stark?” She sure didn’t look like the women Stark was usually seen with. Or, well. She had the body. And the face. Those eyes were so unbelievable blue, they looked almost unreal.

But the women Stark was usually to be seen with were wearing high heels and cute dresses and generally just… bombshells. This chick had worrisome black circles beneath her eyes, instead of fake lashes, and she smelled faintly of … cinnamon. Certainly not perfume, though. And as if that wasn’t enough, the look on her face seemed almost offended by the suggestion. The way her jaw moved certainly seemed like build up anger. “No. No, really not. I work _with_ him, at best. And that is mostly a misleading expression. You can’t really work with Anthony.”

Yep, certainly build up anger. Or frustration. Or maybe even a minor grudge. “Aaaaalrighty. Not working for him. Got that. If you work with him, do you work with his coffee-machine as well?” Darcy gestured toward the red coffee-machine in a corner, with a golden “Stark Industries” label in ridiculously big letters over it’s front. “Because I can’t seem to get his machine to work and I’m very close to keeling over right now.”

The woman looked at the thing, with a bit of a frown. “I’m not much of a coffee person. But. I think I know how we can get it to work.” Darcy followed the woman on her heels, as she walked over to the machine. She seemed to examine it from all angles for a second, before she turned to Darcy again. “Do you have a cup?” Darcy nodded.

“Sure.” She grabbed one from a cupboard and mentally praised herself for having unpacked the few kitchen-things Jane had brought with her first. The mug she grabbed was green, and instead of a handle, there was a green, muscly arm. Stella stared at the Hulk-Arm and the Hulk-print on the mug for a second, but she seemingly chose to not say anything, and just placed the cup in the machine.

And then she made a step backwards, and seemed to look at the ceiling. Darcy looked up too, slightly confused. She was pretty sure that this wasn’t the usual way one switched a coffee machine on. “Jarvis? Can you tell me how the coffee machine works, please?” ‘ _Certainly, Miss Rogers.’_

Darcy almost jumped out of her skin and now took a step away from the machine as well. “Whoa. Did the coffee machine just reply to you?” She gestured at the thing. Before Stella could reply, Darcy recovered from the surprise, and her face split into a huge grin. “How cool is _that!_ This is so Star Trek. Hi there you cute little thing… what did you call it again, Stella?”

With the last comment Darcy made a step towards the machine again, leaning forward and placing her hands above her knees, so she was on eye-level with the thing – wherever it had it’s eyes. She didn’t see that Stella was trying very hard not to chuckle.

The reply didn’t come from Stella, though. _‘Hi there, too. My name is Jarvis, Miss Lewis. However, I am sad to have to inform you that I am not a coffee machine. I am a home computing system.’_ Darcy seemed to register now that the voice had indeed not come from the machine. Just like Stella before, she now rightened herself and looked at the ceiling. Huh.

“A home… what. Are you a board computer?” The male, british voice seemed amused when it replied. An amused AI. How utterly cool. Darcy’y glee-level was so high, she was ready to bounce up and down like a small child at Christmas. _‘That would be a mostely adequate comparison.’_

Darcy turned around, tearing her gaze from the ceiling, grinning broadly at Stella. “This is literally the coolest place I’ve ever been. This is better than a sentient coffee machine.” Stella shrugged a bit, but she was smiling as she did so.

“Jarvis is a very helpful system, yes. I can’t fathom how it works, but he is installed everywhere in this building, which makes settling into this place less tedious and overwhelming than it could be.” _‘Thank you for the compliment, Miss Rogers.’_ “You’re welcome. Just don’t tell Tony I said that. He would never stop gloating.”

Darcy shook her head slightly. The grin on her face was almost painful to her cheeks by now, but _goddamit._ This was like a childhood dream coming true. The computer had been one of the reasons why she had dreamed of being aboard the Enterprise as a kid. Well, that and the holodecks. “So, Jarvis. Do tell. How does this machine work?”

‘ _Pressing the_ Stark Industries _letter will switch the machine on, Miss Lewis_.’ Darcy did so, and watched with admiration as the top of the machine slid opened and a touchscreen appeared. She couldn’t help herself. “Awesome!” Darcy picked a regular coffee with an extra espresso, and then looked at Stella again. The woman had seemingly just patiently waited for Darcy’s glee to subside. “Okay. Now that I’m settled… What did welcoming my boss and Thor here entail? Just poping by to say hello? Do you need something signed?”

Stella stuffed her hands in the pockets of her worn jeans. At least she didn’t seem as lost and uncomfortable as before. If anything, she seemed almost relaxed. “… I know Thor a bit, and he still owes me a spar. I was around and had nothing better to do, so I thought I would ask him if he was up for it.”

Darcy was sure that she looked ridiculous, with her eyebrows wandering up to her hairline, and her moth slightly agape. “You want to spar with _Thor_? He’s such a big chunk of muscles. Have you seen the guys’ shoulders? Or his arms? Not to say that you don’t have muscles.” Darcy paused. Glancing at the arms, visible beneath the rolled up sleeves of the flannel shirt. “Because. Seriously? You do. Obviously. Those are … serious muscles. No offense.”

Stella shifted her weight slightly and just for a second, Darcy thought she saw a glint in those extremely blue eyes. What colour was that even. Azure? “None taken. And you’re right, Thor is well trained. But, yeah. So am I. Muscles are no guarantee to win if don’t know how to put them to good use. Sparing is about tactic as well. Being quick. Flexible. Sometimes all you need is the tip of a finger to smash in someone’s face.”

Darcy grinned. “Well, I believe you. Thor isn’t invincible and I don’t doubt that you can take him down. You just don’t look too nice to smash in someone’s face.”

Stella answered Darcy’s grin with a small smile. “Looks can be deceiving. I got into a lot of fist fights when I was younger.”

The coffee machine played a small melody, as if to tell Darcy that she was done now and wanted to be praised. Darcy turned to the machine and grabbed the cup, inhaling the sweet, sweet scent of coffee. Deeply. With a glance at the clock she noted that it was 6:22 already. Darcy switched the machine off the same way she had switched it on, and then turned towards Stella again. “A wild childhood, huh? Were you the delinquent-type?”

Stella seemed to pause, and her eyes got a really distant look. As if she was looking past Darcy. And then she just… shrugged. But it was a half-hearted gesture. “No, I was the… my best friend would have said I was the idiot-type. I wasn’t particularly looking for fights, the neighbourhood I grew up in was just a rough place. And sometimes you have to fight for what is right, I guess. Yeah.”

Darcy leaned her hips against the table where some of the folders still were on top of. Somehow she had trouble picturing someone with such a sweet smile in a fist fight. “Doesn’t seem to have done you any bad, if you’re now sparing with the god of thunder. Your friend surely wouldn’t dare to call you the idiot-type now.”

Stella snorted unladylike. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that. I mean, I’m not as frail anymore as I was back then, but… he wouldn’t be thrilled to know that I’m out there and… ah, that I’m in this job. But thanks.”

Darcy sipped on her coffee. This job, huh? Darcy saw it pretty much confirmed now that Stella was with S.H.I.E.L.D. Explained the tension between her and Stark, from what she’s heard from Jane. But why would someone from S.H.I.E.L.D. be around here at such an ungodly time anyway?

A big part of why Jane had agreed to sign a contract with Stark Industries had been Tony’s promise of almost unlimited funds and protection from S.H.I.E.L.D.’s grasp at Jane’s research. What if Stella was just here to spy on them, or something? The thought made Darcy incredibly uncomfortable.

There was a slight coughing coming from the door again, and both Stella and Darcy looked at the direction slightly startled out of their thoughts. There was a man there, in a blue button-down shirt and black pants. He had short hair with some grey streaks in there, and he looked very tired. But he was smiling faintly, and slowly and unsurely raising a hand, in greeting. “Hello. Is Dr. Foster here?”

Darcy waved back with her free hand, which seemed to draw the mans attention to the coffee-cup in her other hand. Darcy could have sworn that he _grimaced_ at it for a second. Rude, much? But she smiled anyway. That man looked like he could easily be scared away. “Hi there! Nope, my boss-lady is still in New Mexico. I’m just the unpaid Intern, send here to already make a mess of this lab. Darcy Lewis. And you are?”

He seemed to consider just staying where he was, right by the door, but he seemingly was too well mannered to ignore the hand she had thrust out in his direction. He came over, slowly, and shook it. His hands were warm as well, but his grip was a bit stronger than Stella’s. “Bruce Banner. I have a lab in this tower as well. I’ve heard much of Dr. Foster and was hoping to ask her for opinion on something.” Then his mind seemed to process something, as he put his hands in the pockets of his pants. “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, though, Miss Lewis. I heard much of you from Tony.”

Darcy could’t help but grin. He heard of her from Tony. Huh. Iron Man himself was talking about her? “Call me Darcy. I hope he told you of my glorious pinterest with glorious pictures of Thor-stuffing-his-face? Because that one is becoming very popular. I hope to add Stark-stuffing-his-face to the collection.”

There was a tug at the corner of Banner’s mouth, but he seemingly was trying to smirk too openly and settled for a really small smile. “Though that sounds… wonderful, I think he was more interested in the story how you tasered Thor and hacked into S.H.I.E.L.D.’s database.”

Darcy beamed with pride. She couldn’t help but glance at Stella, who seemed very surprised and – _Darcy was sure that this was what those raised eyebrows meant_ \- impressed. “Yep, that’s me. At your service.”

Stella did really sound impressed when she spoke up now. “Hacking into S.H.I.E.L.D. I only know of one other person besides Tony who can do that, and she is a spy with extrensive training.”

Darcy chuckled at that, all too pleased. But hey, she was allowed to gloat every once in a while. It was not like she was usually getting praise for anything she did. Jane never praised the coffee she made, or how wonderful she was able to pin things to a blackboard. Jane was usually to busy being impressed by SCIENCE! In all capital letters with an exclamation mark to be impressed by her intern – who didn’t even study _real_ science. But that was okay. Darcy sometimes made sarcastic remarks about one breakthrough or another to even it out.

“Yeah, well, what can I say. Sometimes you have to fight for what is right, I guess. But thanks. That’s not what people usually compare me to. I’m usually mistaken for someone impressive like a waitress.”

Stella returned Darcy’s smile with a small smile of her own. “Looks can be deceiving.”

 

 

*

 

_You have suffered enough_  
And warred with yourself  
It's time that you won

 

*

 

 

Had she ever been excited to live in New York now? Darcy took that back, mentally, and apologized for ever having complained about how boring New Mexico had been. She was here fore three freaking days and someone went nuts and decided that enslaving humanity sounded like a good plan. And, naturally, he just had to wait until it was time for her to grab a coffee from starbucks, when she wasn’t in the most protected building on this planet. The fuck?!

For just one more moment Darcy watched one of that maniac’s minions – like, literally, small shrunken, yellow people made up of gooey mass, as if that scientist was a fan of Despicable Me and had done a piss-poor job at re-creating the little fabulous things with their dirty humour and ended up with a slimey, mute version – jump through a damn concrete wall and decided that no, she didn’t need to watch this.

She crawled over the concrete, towards two cars, piled up on one another. She had bad experiences with cars in villain!situations, but somehow she’s pretty sure that being over there would be better than just cowering behind debris.

Luck was not with her, though. The moment she reached the cars, one of those slimey-yellow-things jumped from a building, having apparently noted her movements. Darcy holds up her taser, and tries not to allow her hands to shake to hard, as she fires. The thing gets hit and some weird smoke comes from the mass, before it loses it forms and just plops to the ground.

Darcy stares at the yellow puddle for a moment. And then she curses. Now she had wasted her taser on a minion, dammit! What if the creeper himself now popped by? She was so screwed. “Fuck me. Goddamn, Darcy.” She pulls herself to her feet behind and glances past the two cars.

The minions – the few that she can make out – are all waltzing towards the tower. Where their master was, apparently. And on their way there they just casually seemed to jump at people. Darcy wasn’t sure what happened, but they seemed to zombify the people they hit. Like. Hitching a ride inside of the people? Oooze into them like parasites and then the people walked with weird motions towards the tower? Yeah, something like that.

Darcy shuddered, and cowered behind the cars again. She couldn’t stay here, but she had no idea where she should go to either. Her home was the tower. Her home was the centre of attention of minions and the villain alike. Oh. And the heroes, too. But she was pretty sure that counting on being saved by a hero wasn’t a good idea.

Maybe she could find an electronics shop nearby and raid that, apocalypse style. She needed tasers if he wanted to protect herself and maybe help people. And there was just no way she was pulling her own one outside of that yellow puddle.

Darcy wrecked her brain trying to remember if she knew of any electronics shop nearby when she heard steps to her right, and she glanced past the car again. There was a kid running. Ten, at best. And there was a minion following. Darcy cursed. Quick, she had to be quick.

Darcy grabbed a windscreen wiper and ripped it off the car. And then she jumped out from her hiding place, just as the kid had reached it. “Kid, here, behind the car!” The kid didn’t even pause and just made the b-line.

And as that yellow blob came towards her Darcy grabbed the wiper with both her hands, trying to get a good stance. She was planning on hitting it away like a baseball when it launched towards her. But before she could even so much as wind up she heard a weird sound and something flew past her and _hit_ the minion with such force that it spontaneously combusted.

The thing that had hit it – the _shield_ – flew a curve and came back to where it had come from, and Darcy turned around, too, only to see _Captain Fricking America_ jump from a Building and jog towards her.

“Are you alright, Darcy?” Darcy blinked. Mouth agape. She knew, there was no time, but … those eyes. The determined chin. And the terribly long legs. _“Whoa!_ You!” Darcy gasped. Stella’s smile was crooked and tired. “Yeah. Me. Are you _alright_?”

Darcy crossed her arms over her chest. “Yes, sure I am! But. Goddamit. Captain America. And I thought Tony was just making jokes about your name when he said you had a _Star-Sprangled Booty._ You should have toled me that you’re a magical girl!” Stella’s smile vanished. She seemed to scan the area, obviously looking for more minions, before she allowed herself to take the time to reply.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you. It just never came up.” And then, as if in an afterthought, she added. “…what is a magical girl.” Darcy gasped. More shocked by that than by the revelation that Stella was Captain America.

“You don’t know Magical Girls! Don’t tell me you don’t even know Sailor Moon!” Stella shrugged, which caused Darcy to shake her head with a bewildered expression. She could deal with aliens, and minions and all that jazz, but she could _not_ deal with people not knowing Sailor Moon. “You really should be ashamed of yourself. The Avengers are nothing compared to her, let me tell you. You would _love_ her. She even has your colour scheme. And you have her unbelievable long legs and red boots. Goddamit.”

The last thing was half mumbled, because she really couldn’t help but glance at them. Stella’s expression stayed serious, but there was amusement in her voice as she offered a hand to Darcy now. “Whatever you say. Look, we have to get back to the tower. The bad guy is taken care off, but we have to take down each and every one of his experiments first.”

Darcy took the hand Stella offered and let herself be tugged along. “So you came to collect me? Really? How did you even know that I would be here?” Stella glanced at Darcy quickly, before she kept looking around for attackers.

Darcy couldn’t help but notice that Stella’s perfect, upright posture was now accompanied by a much firmer set in her shoulders and long strides. This was clearly her expertise, and she seemed les unsure of herself here than in the tower. More comfortable, even. “Jane told Bruce that she couldn’t find you, and Tony asked Jarvis and then told me the location of the coffee-shop. I just figured that you couldn’t have gone far.” Darcy nodded. She would have to thank Jarvis later. How did one thank a board computer, though?

“That was very stupid back there. Attacking that thing with a wiper.” Darcy blinked, as Stella now really looked at her, and not just glance. It was the first time that she had this really hard expression on her face, though, while looking at her.

Darcy raised an eyebrow at that. “I couldn’t have just let it attack the kid. And you’re one to talk, pretty guardian. I believe _you_ were the one who always got called an idiot for fighting?” Stella scowled. Darcy would have smiled, just for seeing her like this. Captain America really was different than Stella was. Much more… passionate? Or grumpy. Or both. Certainly more skintight-clothes-and-really-sexy-leather-boots. Even the mask was kind of… hot. Hell. Was this her reaction to adrenaline?

“That’s not the same. I was fighting bullies. Humans. This wasn’t human.” Darcy waved it off.

“Fine, whatever, you can lecture me later, alright? And I promise to be a good girl and you will be pleased and then we will watch Sailor Moon together. Perfect timing, anyway. There is a new series coming on soon.” Stella took her time with her reply. Maybe because she was still keeping an eye out, while they were running that no-one attacked them.

But then she nodded and _squeezed Darcy’s hand._ “Alright. “ Darcy grinned, and she wasn’t sure if she was more surprised by the sudden burst of butterflies in her stomach or by her next words, that just bubbled out of her.

“Great. Consider it a date, Miss Rogers.”

 

 

 

*

 

_Raise your hopeful voice_

_You have a choice  
You'll make it now_

 

*

 

Some people excelled under stress and in dire situations. Darcy was like that. And she had a feeling that she purposefully made her life more stressful just to push herself unconsciously. For what other reason would she have just gone and called this thing a ‘ _date_ ’?

 

‘ _Consider it a date, Miss Rogers._ ’

 

How stupid could one be? It could have been just a casual thing between two friends. Girl-power, sticking together, and all that. Or maybe just a popular culture lesson for Stella. Not that Stella really seemed to need it. Darcy had to admit that Stella seemed to be pretty good in coping herself, and had taught herself well on many things she missed out on. Darcy had to especially applaud just how well Stella had updated her wardrobe. Those tight jeans really highlighted that woman’s perfect sculptured legs-hips-waist-ratio.

However, just throwing on a pair of jeans and a sweater now seemed weirdly off. What if Stella had taken that Date-thing quite literally? What if she showed up in a nice dress and all, and expected good food and cultivated talk?

 

‘ _Consider it a date, Miss Rogers_.’

 

How much of a date would ‘Miss Rogers’ consider this to be? It had put Darcy on edge the whole day. And she had to admit just how nervous she was when she caught herself cleaning up her room and the bathroom. Eying everything and trying to imagine it through Stella’s eyes.

Then she had even gone out of her way to grocery-shop proper food – like, vegetables and fruits, and something to drink that was not just coffee or alcohol – and she remembered that Stella had mentioned during their first encounter that she didn’t like coffee, so she had made sure to buy dozen different kinds of tea.

And now she faced the next hurdle. She had left the shower two hours ago, her hair was almost dry again, and she was still in her pink, plushy Fight-Club-Remembrance-Bathing-Robe. She just had no idea what to put on.

She didn’t want to be overdressed, in case Stella didn’t take this for a _date_ -date. She didn’t want to be underdressed, in case Stella did take this for a _date_ -date. She just generally wanted to look good, but not too good. Not like she was trying really hard. She didn’t want to give the wrong signals, and all that. But – what were the right signals to give?

Darcy knew perfectly well that she was darn attracted to Stella. And she wasn’t someone to make a secret out of that. Usually. But then again, she had to work with Stella. Or Jane had to work with Stella. She didn’t want to make this uncomfortable for either of them.

So it wasn’t like she planned to make this a _date_ -date-thing. Dating her own intern, Ian, had become uncomfortable as hell pretty quickly. She didn’t need that again.

She had called Jane, earlier, while painting her toenails red, as she had faced the dilemma. A Captain America red, because Darcy had not been able to not buy the whole pallet of ‘Captain America’-Make-up when she had seen it in the store last week, to celebrate America’s greatest heroes.

Jane had scolded Darcy a bit a first, for calling her while she was doing le-science over such trivial matter. But then she had relented and advised Darcy to pick something that was non-committal to date or non-date. Of cause, Jane didn’t exactly know every piece of clothing Darcy owned (Darcy didn’t really know every piece of clothing she owned, truth be told), so she had advised her to go with her black-skinny-pants and just put something with colour on it. Maybe that one red babydoll-top with the cute red bow.

That had helped. Until Darcy had remembered that she had a darn sexy black mini-skirt as well, that would go maybe even better with the red babydoll. She had not worn that one yet. Wouldn’t it be very patriotic to commit this skirt to try and sex up Captain America? Or was she one step too far over the _date_ -date-line that way?

The ring of Darcy’s mobile startled her out of her thoughts, and she was thankful enough for the distraction to just put on whoever was calling her and greet them cheerfully. “Hello there!” A small, very short pause followed.

“Hello Darcy? This is Stella.” Her larynx made a small jump, Darcy suppressed a gurgle. Talking to someone on the phone you had the hots for in any state of being undressed was not good. Stella, apparently, hadn’t noticed the gurgle. “I’m just calling to tell you that I’m running late a bit. But I’m on my way to you. Would like me to bring some popcorn?”

She was on her way here? Darcy had not even noted that Stella was running late in her wardrobe-panic. How close was she already? How much time did she have left? Darcy spontaneously panicked and grabbed her black skinnies and practically jumped into them, all the while desperately trying to keep her voice even. “Sure, sounds good! I didn’t think of that. But I made cake pops. Do you like cake pops?”

Darcy could hear now the faint horn of a car in the background. So Stella was outside somewhere, and not already in the building. “Yes, I believe Natasha made me eat one last week. It was good.” Darcy exhaled, as she grabbed for the baby doll and tried pulling it over her head, her phone pressed tightly between her cheek and her right shoulder. Impossible.

“Awesome. Okay. Then, I’ll see you soon?” “Yes, see you in five.”

Darcy simply dropped the phone the second she was sure that Stella had hung up and uttered a line of curses. Goddamit. Five minutes! What to do with her hair? And her _face_? Why was this so damn stressfull now? Wasn’t this supposed to be all cute and fun? She didn’t remember herself being this excited over watching movies with someone. Not since her first date, back in High School. Good god. She was behaving exactly like a high schooler, wasn’t she?

Darcy stared angrily at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was a mess. And whatever she would try now, it would stay a mess. The best she could do was to pull it into a ponytail, so Stella wouldn’t immediately notice it, until she turned her back to her.

Stella’s hair was always so silky. She didn’t even need to do much with it, it was just naturally perfect. It was really just unfair. Done with her hair, Darcy hastily applied some black eyeliner and a bit of mascara, and then she ran to the kitchen to put on water for tea, and look for a pair of identical, cute cups.

 

Just in time, too. The water was still boiling when the doorbell rang, and inwardly, Darcy send one last tiny prayer to Thor before she practically ripped open the door. For a moment, she was a bit shocked to see Stella standing there in all her glory. In all her captain America glory.

Huh.

Darcy tilted her head a bit, taking it all in – damn, those legs - until she noted the uneasy and almost sheepish expression on Stella’s face. With a cough Darcy made a step aside, gestured for Stella to come it. “So… is there a reason you look like you’re ready to head into a fight? Barton didn’t make a dumb remark about my cooking skills that scared you, or anything, right?”

Stella smiled, as she pulled down the cap and placed the shield softly against Darcy’s tiny shoerack. She also pulled off her pretty pretty red boots, before handing Darcy the package of popcorn she had brought. “No, I’m sorry. There was an emergency mission. Hostage situation. But we managed to still dissolve it all in time for our arrangement.” Was there a pause before the word ‘arrangement’ or was Darcy becoming paranoid? “There just wasn’t any time to head back to the Tower if I didn’t want to make you any longer. And my ma told me to never let a lady wait.”

Darcy’s heart made a little irregular skip at that. “Only you would manage to stay on schedule when an emergency comes up. I’m not exactly a lady, but I appreciate it. You could have called and re-scheduled, though.” She frowned at the uniform. “As hot as it is, I doubt that it’s the most comfortable get up.”

Stella shrugged, but she was smiling. “I’ve had worse.” Sure she had. Stella had been in the army after all. Stella had been in a world war. Sure she had had worse. Urgh, Darcy.

The kettle in the kitchen whistled at her, and Darcy motioned for Stella to follow her into the kitchen. “So, er. How about you pick a tea you’d like and then I show you around? And if you want to – just an offer – you can take a shower and change into something more comfortable?”

Stella eyed the massive (and… very visibly new…) collective of different kinds of tea. If she was wondering why pretty much all the different bags and boxes were still sealed she didn’t say anything about it. Bless that woman’s sense of tact. It would have given away Darcy’s sometimes obsessive behaviour if she had to explain this. “If you don’t mind that…?”

Darcy waved it off. “Nah, don’t be ridiculous. I want you to be comfortable when I introduce you to the wonders of Magical girls. So. Tea? Any preferences?” Stella took her time to pick up many different bags, before she settled for one from a small store in Brooklyn she thought she recognized by name. It was a sweet strawberry-tea.

Then Darcy showed her around her place, and the bathroom. She told her she could take as much hot water as she wanted, and she could take as long as she wanted, and she was free to take anything she wanted from Darcy’s wardrobe too if she thought that it’d fit.

 

In the meantime, Darcy tried to calm her nerves in texting Jane ridiculous and slightly panicky messages like:

“ _Stella came fresh from a fight and I might have just swooned at the smell of her sweat. Jane, I’m nuts_!”,

 

“ _I keep ogling her boots. What if I keep ogling her? What if I make her uncomfortable and she files a complained about ‘sexual assault through eyes’ at SHIELD?_ ” and

 

“please _come and put me in a nunnery before they come and lock me up, jane_!”

 

Jane’s generic response to her shit was just a short ‘ _Don’t panic_!’. Right. Darcy tried not-panicking while making tea and carrying it to the living room along with the heated-up popcorn. Then she choose the right Netflix channel already, so they would only have to hit play.

Almost by the same time that Darcy was done, the water in the shower stopped running. So Stella was a speed-showerer. Again, probably something she had learned in the army.

Stella emerged from Darcy’s room in a black sweatshirt that Darcy had bought for a hiking-trip in Canada and green sweatpants-shorts. Not a date outfit, so that much was clear, but… damn. The shorts were a bit loose around Stella’s ridiculously narrow hips, but they were much shorter on Stella’s long legs than on Darcy’s. Also, Darcy was sure that these were the shorts that had “juicy” in glittery letters written over the ass.

Darcy grinned and patted the space to her left on the couch. “Come on, Pretty Guardian. I’m dying from excitement.” Stella sat down beside Darcy, easing into a crossed-legged position, tilting her head to one side as she observed the picture.

Darcy couldn’t help but observe her, with her towel-dry, long blonde-hair. Maybe, if Stella liked this, she could persuade her to go to that one comic-convention to cosplay with her. Stella would make an awesome Sailor Moon.

With a bit a grin, Darcy grabbed the remote. “So. Prepared to have your mind blown?” Stella tore her eyes from the picture, and smiled at Darcy, with visible uncertainty.

“Anyone ever told you that you’re very good at building up expectations? I don’t know what it is about, but yet I still have a feeling that it must be truly good.”

Grabbing a hand full of popcorn, Darcy made a gesture as if she was lifting an invisible hat towards Stella. “My pleasure. But now, watch. Keep in mind that this is still the old show. Not to complain too much about the new show, Sailor Moon Crystal, but there’s more love put in the old thing. So. Here goes.”

Stella saluted towards her, with a bit of a chuckle. “Ma’am, yes, Ma’am.” And then she indeed fixed her eyes dutifully on the screen, as red letters appeared. _‘FROM A FAR AWAY PLACE AND TIME, EARTH’S GREATEST ADVENTURE HAS ONLY JUST BEGUN!’_

 

During the Intro, there was initially a bit of bewilderment on Stella’s face, and Darcy made it a point of singing along to the cheesy intro, sung by some kids. ‘ _Fighting evil by moon-light, winning love by daylight, never running from a real-fight: she is the one named Sailor Moon…_ ’ Though, truth be told, she had almost forgotten just how cheesy it had been. Stella didn’t seem too fathomed. She just pointed at the screen, as Sailor Moon struck her pose with her posse at the end of the singing. “That’s who you compared me too?”

“Shhh!” Darcy put her finger against her lip, as a low male face began to tell the story about Queen Berryl and the Moon Kingdom. Darcy keept glancing back and forth between the screen, as the story unfolded. Torn between wanting to gauge Stella’s reaction to everything, and actually being hit by a wave of nostalgia and the need to drink it all in herself.

When a small smile appeared on Stella’s face, as Usagi – Serena, Darcy had forgotten about the bad Dub – saved Luna, the cat, from some kids who bullied it. A shadow of that smile lingered, and when Sailor Moon transformed for the first time, Stella even snorted. “I wish getting into the Uniform would be that easy,” Darcy heared her mumble, and almost chocked on her Popcorn, laughing. The mental image of Stella striking poses and transforming was way too good.

Aside from that, though, both stayed silent for that first episode of twenty-five minutes, and Darcy wondered just how weird it must be to watch this for Stella, the girl out of time. It was modern by fifties-standards, yet so old by standards of the twenty-first century. She was watching that probably very close to the way kids watched it.

By the end of the episode, Darcy had almost forgotten to observe Stella’s expression. She had also forgotten about her nervousness, or the ‘date’-issue. She just started bouncing a bit on the couch, as she emptied her cup of tea. “So. Do you like it?”

Stella hummed a non-committal sound. “It’s like seeing a comic come to life. That’s certainly fascinating.” Darcy threw one popcorn up in the air, and caught it between her teeth, also swallowing down the remark that, basically, Sailor Moon was a comic come to life. A japanese comic. But that would be a lesson for a different day. “It’s… very cute. Naïve, a bit, but it probably serves as a good message for kids. Aside from the skirt, maybe. And I thought the USO-Tour-Uniform was impractical.”

Darcy laughed, at that. “Oh, yeah. The show is all about fighting bad guys, girls being strong, friendship, love, loyalty… I have to admit a blasphemy here, but as a kid, I was more of a Sailor Moon fan and playing at being a Pretty Guardian than I was a fan of Captain America, playing at slaying Nazis.” Stella chuckled, as Darcy paused for a moment. “Come to think of it, I think Sailor Moon might have been my crush in kindergarten. So. Wanna see more?”

Stella snatched some popcorn out from Darcy’s hand, and Darcy tried not to show how the brief contact of skin gave her goose bumps. Instead, she started the next episode. This time, she first made a point of not sneaking glances at Stella, and soon became absorbed by the episode. She only looked up, when she heard soft laughter from the girl beside her.

She raised on eyebrow at her, episode forgotten, and Stella shruged with a sheepish grin. “Yeah, I can see that she was your first crush. And still seems to be. It’s cute.” Darcy might have almost blushed a bit.

“Yeah, well. Guilty as charged. I think I will forever be in love with the concept of a hero that starts out as a cry-baby, not the smartest tool in the shed, not insanely popular, not really rich, downright lazy – and yet, her good heart was what mattered, what helped her being a hero.”

There was a new softness to Stella’s smile, as she put her own, refilled cup of tea to her lips, and looked back at the screen. Darcy hadn’t expect her to reply to that, when Stella spoke up again. “Someone once told me that the most important quality about me was my heart as well.”

Darcy pulled the blanket she had wrapped herself into earlier, while watching the second episode, a bit tighter around herself. She hesitated, before speaking, wondering briefly if she was crossing lines here. “Sounds like a smart someone. Can I know who?” She tried to remember the faces of the guys of the Howling Commandos. She had been in the exhibit. So far she had not bothered Stella with her questions, but this was casual enough, right?

Still, she observed Stella’s expression carefully, just in case she overstepped a line, or the memory was too hurtful. There was a deep sorrow in Stella’s eyes, as she looked down on her hands, but when she spoke, her voice was calm. “The man who created the Supersoldier Program and picked me for it. Me, the girl from Brooklyn, who had tried to sneak into the army disguised as a man. He gave me a chance when only one other person in my life would have.”

The story of how Captain America came to be was still mostly under wraps. Darcy was mostly piercing it together from what she learned in school and what she had picked up working for Jane. She knew that, apparently, Stella had not always been tall and strong, and that she had been picked to be… made, whatever that meant. For the life of her, though, Darcy didn’t remember the name of the person who had picked Stella.

“Well, look how you turned out. I say he did something right when he picked you.” Stella looked up from her hands, which she had been flexing and unflexing in a rhythmic pattern. It was obvious that she tried to smile, but the expression on her face was strained.

“People keep telling me that. Sometimes I’m not sure about it.” When the flexing started again, Darcy couldn’t help herself. She reached out, putting her hand in Stella’s larger one. Stella squeezed her hand, softly, and then continued, almost hesitantly. “When he told me that he’d picked me, I, ah… for a moment I wanted to tell him that I wouldn’t do it. I still think I shouldn’t have.”

Stella looked up, and Darcy was almost too distract from what Stella was saying by the look in her eyes. It wasn’t even the colour; it was the lowered eye-lids, the tired expression, the deep regret that seems to border on physical pain. Stella looked old, much older than the twenty-something she really is. And lonely. It hits Darcy hard how lost and lonely Stella looked. She only recognized now that it was what she had seen back on their first meeting already.

 

“I could have told him to pick Bucky. We grew up together. He had the best of hearts; he always protected me, no matter what. He was a friend to me when I was weak and sickish and even my mother thought I wouldn’t survive the next winter. Bucky would have been a better Soldier, more easily accepted, too. Had it been Bucky, the wouldn’t have shipped him off on an USO-tour for months. And there was… an Agent. Peggy Carter. A fierce dame. She knew about the war, about what was going on. She was smart, and determined. She wouldn’t have _let_ them ship her off. I could have said her name, too.”

Though she had been holding Darcy’s gaze for the most time, now Stella looked back, down at her hands. At Darcy’s hand in her hands. There is defeat in her posture, and it almost irked Darcy how much Stella’s posture now differed from the confident, square set in her shoulders on the battlefield.

Softly, she let go of Darcy’s hand, and Darcy tried not to take it personally when she rubbed her hands on the soft cotton of the sweatpants-shorts, as she spoke on. Forced, as if she had to say these things, but really didn’t want to. “I didn’t, though. I was selfish. I wanted that chance for myself, and then I allowed them to push me around. Not only me – that man’s legacy as well. They turned me in a showgirl, and I let them.”

When the ending of the second episode started, Darcy almost cringed with a glance at the screen. She feelt terribly insensitive now, when she looked at the ridiculous outfit of the Pretty Guardians. It must have seemed ironic for Stella to be compared to that now. She had been pushed to wearing ridiculous outfits before, too, by other people. And here she was, being compared something looking very similar.

Darcy put the half-empty bowl of popcorn on the couch-table, and hugs her knees to her chest. For a moment, silence settled between them. Darcy knew she had to speak up now, she had to say something, or this would become a topic that both of them would forever avoid. And she didn’t want that. So she inhaled deeply, before she broke the silence. She didn’t have a clue what she’s going to say, but there was a fifty-fifty-chance she’d screw up and Stella would hate her.

“Well. Nobody’s perfect. It’s okay that you were wanted that chance for yourself, because everyone wants that. Don’t be ridiculous. And – didn’t you just learn that even a non-perfect person can become a hero? Maybe you let them push you around for a bit, and didn’t fight for yourself. But when it came down to it, you did stand up to them.” Darcy shook her hands around a bit, and not even she understood what her gestures meant. At least it made Stella look at her again.

“You did use that great goody-doer heart of yours that that man saw in you, right? You didn’t die the showgirl they tried to turn you into. You picked yourself up and took your famous shield and your brave, good heart and became a national treasure. Star-spangled booty be damned. You’re more than that. You were the courage and the hope of a generation, a nation. Everyone knows the story of you storming that Nazi-Base to safe the captured soldiers and then formed the Howling Commandos. That’s what made you the hero – not some program. And I would bet that that man, and that friend of yours, and that Agent Lady were totally proud of you.”

There was a weak smile now. Stella didn’t look as persuaded as Darcy would wish she would look, but Darcy was well aware that she was no Cicero. She had never been a bad-ass rhetorician. So instead, she just reached out, and poked Stella in the Arm. “And for the record, Captain Rogers, _Stella,_ I’m totally proud that I know you, too. Now. Wanna see another episode of your celestial sister and her hardships? Just in case you ever encounter mysterious villains from a dark moon. It’s totally mission preparation.”

 

Stella chuckled, and Darcy exhales the breath she hadn’t noticed she had been holding. Then Stella leaned forward, grabbing some more popcorn, and flicked one against Darcy’s forehead. “Well. I don’t think I have a choice if you put it like that. Also, I have to know what I’m up against.”

Darcy grinned gleefully, as she started the third episode, nodding her head in an exaggerated fashion. “Oh, yes. In case you’re ever up against mean aliens with pretty bad villainous laughter.”

Popcorn was flicked against Darcy’s ear this time. “Oh, yes, that too. But I actually meant whom I have to compete against for your affection.” Darcy blinked, frowning, as she looked at Stella now. Was she… misunderstanding this? Wishful thinking? “What?” She spurted out, sounding 100% super intelligent and articulate. Just great, Darcy.

Stella’s face reamined pretty expressionless, her eyes trained on the screen. But there, there was a twitch, lifting her cheeks just ever so slightly. She was clearly fighting the urge to smile. And Darcy was also sure she could see the shells of one of her ears redden. “If it’s the boots, I think I stand a chance. But I hope you’re not going for that hairstyle.”

For a moment, Darcy wasn’t sure if was appropriate to laugh if Captain America implied she might have a teeny-bit a thing for you. She tried to play it cool. Yes. Be smooth for once in your life, Darcy.

Darcy flicked one popcorn of her own in Stella’s direction. “If I say that it’s the bow above her ass, would you actually try one out?”

“No.” Stella’s Popcorn hit her nose.

“Even if I tell you that it would help to bring out your best features?” Her Popcorn tumbled into Stella’s lap.

“Yes.” Darcy was hit in the cheek next.

“Was that a Yes to the bow?” Darcy didn’t try to hide that she had been aiming for Stella’s bossom with the next one.

“No.” The next popcorn bounced off from Darcy’s lips.

“And the bow on the chest?” This one got’s caught up in Stella’s hair.

“…Negotiable.” A popcorn tumbled down into Darcy’s cleavage.

“Really?” Darcy missed by far this time.

“No.” Another one down Darcy’s shirt.

 

“Dammit.”

 

 

*

 

_Falling slowly, eyes that know me  
And I can't go back_

**Author's Note:**

> This baby was somewhat prompted ages ago (as in July 4th 2014) by usedkarma:
> 
> "It’s not for everyone but I’d like a fem!steve/Darcy fic, something both romantic,funny and smutty (if you saw my fic rec page, you’d know I love smut). Please? That would make me happy."
> 
> I started working on it back then but never got around finishing it. Well. Now I did, apparently. I didn't do the smutty-part, but I hope it was at least a bit romantic beneath the cheesy, and that maybe it was just... very slightly funny. (Actually... it was more dramatic than funny. But hey. There's room for a sequel in there somewhere. In case I can ever come up with a plot for this.)
> 
> Also, in case you're curious, I picture Jennifer Morrison when writing fem!Steve. Any other ideas?


End file.
